39: Bookmaker's Choice
by cali-chan
Summary: Sorry, no refunds, Luv. ChaseCameron. Episode tag to 4.05: Mirror, Mirror.


**Bookmaker's Choice**

**Author:** Carla, aka cali-chan.  
**Rating:** PG-13? Kinda?  
**Genre:** Fluff? I really don't even know what to call this, it's _that_ pointless xD  
**Pairings:** Chase/Cameron. 

**Disclaimer:** I don't own House. And since I didn't get Chase for my birthday, I guess it'll stay that way... -sigh- 

**Warnings:** General spoilers for season 4, epecially for episode 4.05, "Mirror, Mirror." 

**Summary:** Sorry, no refunds, Luv. ChaseCameron. Episode tag to 4.05: "Mirror, Mirror." 

**Notes:** I saw "Mirror, Mirror" on Thursday; I'd forgotten how hilarious that episode is. In the mood for playful!ChaseCam because my Happy!JesseJen wallpaper is mocking me. Heh ;) Oh, and if you like this fic, make sure you read my other ChaseCam fic, "Made Tonight." I assure you, it's heaps better than this :)

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The self-satisfied smirk that still shone on his face as he walked towards Reception promptly disappeared as he was roughly jerked to one side by the arm. Chase was disoriented for a second before realizing that someone had just pulled him into a Janitor's closet. And if the slam he heard as he was pulled was any indication, the door had locked behind them, too. 

"JESUS! Cam-- Al, what the hell?" 

His girlfriend now stood in front of him, hands on her hips, looking for all the world like the cat that ate the canary. He glared at her as he rubbed his elbow. For all intents and purposes someone so small shouldn't be able to manhandle someone of his build this way, but Allison Cameron was nothing if not resourceful. "What? Why did you drag me here like this? Could've just asked me to come with, you know..." he grumbled, annoyed. 

She rolled her eyes. He was such a big baby. "Fine, I'm sorry," she said, with a shake of her head. The amused smile never leaving her lips, she then motioned to him with her hands, in a "give it to me" way. "Now, come on, 'fess up." 

He looked at her, eyebrows high on his forehead, in an expression that was entirely too choir-boy innocent to be true. "I don't know what you mean." 

She snorted. "Right. You had a deal with House," she told him, her tone leaving no doubt. 

His wounded expression was so exaggerated that he almost even made himself laugh. Cameron had to cover her face with both hands to keep from cracking up. "Are you accusing me of cheating? I'm hurt!"

"Hurt is what I'm gonna do to you!" she said, moving in to poke at his hand where it lay over his "wounded" heart. "You owe me a hundred bucks!" she added, still laughing merrily. 

"I don't! You're just a sore loser," he crossed his arms and leaned back against a shelf full of bottles of disinfectant. "I won that pool fair and square," he finished, his intonation declaring, more than his words, that he was in the right and he shouldn't be doubted. 

She scoffed. "Yeah, sure," she said, sarcasm dripping from her words. "There is _no_ way you got that bet right. He didn't fire anybody! It was an impossible situation." She shook her head emphatically. "Honey, you're very pretty, but you're not _that_ smart," she said, in a tone so condescending that it would've made House proud, had it not been meant as a joke. 

Now he rolled his eyes at her, albeit with a smile. "I can see Medical School doesn't impress you," he chuckled. He pulled one of her hands into his and pulled her closer. "Honestly, it's not like it was _that_ hard to figure out. House doesn't really have any reason to fire any of them, but he'd keep them all here just for kicks. I mean, think about it: He won't fire Kutner, because he's crazy. He almost electrocuted himself, for God's sake; I bet House finds him hilarious. He won't fire Thirteen, because she's hot..."

"You think she's hot, do you?" she interrupted, one brow arched at him. She sounded serious, but he could see the corners of her mouth just crinkling upwards. "Should I keep her away from the OR, then?" 

"Oh, if anything happened it wouldn't be in the OR, believe--" She slapped her free hand against his chest playfully. "Ow! Pain," he said, sounding every bit like a grumpy 7-year-old. 

She mock glared at him. "Funny. You were saying?" 

He cleared his throat. "Yeah, well, he won't fire Thirteen. The blond one, Amber? He won't fire her because she's evil like him, and evil people band together. And she can probably take him out, anyway." 

Cameron guffawed so hard at that one that she actually had to rest her weight against Chase to keep herself up. He was chuckling, too, as he continued speaking over the sound of her laughter. "He won't fire Brennan either, because Brennan wants to leave. House'll keep him here a while longer just to be contrary. And besides, you know that even if he denies it, he likes those weird, exotic diagnoses. Remember the Sleeping Sickness?" 

She nodded, her shoulders still shaking in mirth. Chase went on. "He won't fire Cole because he _likes_ him now-- and that's all entirely your fault, by the way..." She nodded again and he could see that she was getting her laughter under control. Seizing his chance he poked her on the side, where he knew she was ticklish. 

Sure enough, she shrieked and jumped away from him as a response. "Don't do that!" 

He went on like he hadn't heard her at all. "Not to mention that he needs someone to unload all the black jokes on, so Cole's not going anywhere yet," he finished with a one-shouldered shrug. 

"What about Taub?" Cameron asked when she finally caught her breath. "That one's definitely a sneaky little brown-noser."

"He's easily annoyed, though," Chase debated, with a shake of his head. "House likes whiny, at least until whiny stops being funny. I don't think that's happened yet." 

She eyed him warily. He _sounded_ like he knew what he was saying... Nah. "Alright, let's say that I do believe you for half a second..." 

He sighed. "Must you doubt my integrity? I didn't cheat."

She crossed her arms, defiant. "Please, give me some credit here. I've known you for four years. And because I know you, I know this is totally something you would do. And House, too, he'd jump at the chance to trick everybody. And why would he bother letting the whole hospital into his Survivor-wannabe thing if he can't make a profit out of it?" 

"What, you don't think bugging Cuddy is enough incentive?" Chase didn't really know why he was defending House and his motives, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the moment. Besides, he was having fun feigning innocence; he liked that it got her riled up-- she was hilarious when she got that way. 

"Not if there's money involved," was her quick reply. 

"That's... true, actually," he had to give her that one. House will be House, and that was it. 

She almost jumped at him with an "aha!" expression. "So you admit it!" 

"I do not!" 

"Yes you did! That pool was rigged!" She pushed at his shoulder and he tried to squirm away from her, though it was a little hard with all the shelves around them and the buckets on the floor. He almost tripped with one, and it made her laugh even harder. "I knew it! Now give me back my money." 

"Sorry, no refunds, Luv," he said, grabbing her wrists to stop her relentless attack. He didn't know what her goal was, it wasn't like he carried his wallet in his scrubs or anything. "No, seriously, I can't give it back. How would it look if I let you off the hook just because you're my girlfriend? I gotta be fair, here," he quipped in such a conciliatory tone that he might as well try out for diplomacy. 

She half-sputtered, half-sniggered. How could he say all that with a straight face? "Why, you little crook..." 

"But, I don't want you to feel bad because you _lost_, so..." He made sure to emphasize the word, and she predictably responded with a glare. "Tell you what: We'll rearrange our weekend shifts and we'll go off somewhere, have a weekend off, just you and me." He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her waist. "And I've recently come into a fairly decent sum of money, so we can do just about anything," he was sure to add, just to rub it in. 

She smiled slyly at him as she laced her hands behind his head. "Feeling guilty. Is that a confession?" 

He chuckled. "No, I was just trying to be romantic. Thank you so much for following my lead, by the way." She smirked at his dry tone, knowing full well that it annoyed him when he was trying to be sweet and she pretended not to notice. "So, too proud to accept my offer?" 

She faked actually thinking about it for about two seconds, but then decided it wasn't worth it. "Well, I guess it would be nice. And I have _other_ ways to get you to come clean, anyway," she added, with a suggestive smile. 

"Really? And what do those other ways entail, exactly?" he asked, leaning in so he was almost mumbling against her hair, half-amused and half-enticed. 

"Oh, you'll see..." she affirmed, twirling strands of his longish hair around her fingers in a way that made him shudder. 

"Is that a promise?" He moved lower to nuzzle the side of her face with his nose. His hands lightly caressed her hips and it spurred her to move her body even closer to his. 

"Mm-hmm..." 

She was just about to kiss him when the door to the closet opened unexpectedly. Bright lights flooded in, rendering them both momentarily disoriented. The two sprung apart like they'd been bitten by a snake-- at least as far apart as the reduced space allowed them to be. 

The person at the door didn't even allow them time to react properly before barking: "You two again? God, can't you keep your hands off each other?" There was a huff, and then a loud bang as the door was angrily slammed closed. 

Well, there goes the mood. Cameron had the decency to cringe as she looked back at her boyfriend. "It _had_ to be Hourani, didn't it?" Chase's fellow Surgeon was annoying enough as it was. She'd hate to be in his shoes now, after this little incident. 

"We really have to stop doing this at work." He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Hourani was going to give him hell for this, for at least a week, he was sure. 

She sighed. "Yeah. I guess we gotta get out there now, since we've been found out." She moved closed to the door (amusedly noticing that her foot had ended up inside a thankfully empty bucket) and opened it. Before leaving, she turned around to ask something: "So, what are we doing this weekend, again?" 

He shrugged, moving closer so he could get out as well. He was rubbing the back of his head-- he'd hit it against a shelf when he reacted to their sudden visitor. "I don't know, haven't really thought about it. Why don't you just come over to my place after your shift and we'll decide then?" He brought his hand in front of his face, examining it with a small frown. "I'm not... bleeding, am I? See, you're dangerous." 

She rolled her eyes at him, once more. "Yes, you dork. Your brain is falling out the back of your head. Now come on, have to get back to work." She stood to the side so he could walk out of the closet, and with one last peck on the lips, each took their own way to their respective work stations. 


End file.
